


We Were in Love (I Can Wait)

by SmolPotato3404



Series: Sledgefu Week 2020 [1]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: (its sledgefu obv), Alcohol, Awkward Tension, Bachelor Party, Drinking, Letters, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Sledgefu Week 2020, Surprise Visits, Wedding Planning, Weddings, much like me snafu has trouble writing, past relationship, sledgefu week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolPotato3404/pseuds/SmolPotato3404
Summary: He held the most precious piece of paper ever in his hands. Thick, elegant stationary, adorned with small neat letters, and a careful signature at the bottom left corner.Forever yours,Eugene Sledge.-Snafu pours his heart out into writing the perfect letter to Eugene only to find out he is getting married.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Series: Sledgefu Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851721
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Letters. Hey! This is my first entry for Sledgefu week. I literally finished this today, so I apologize if there are any mistakes! Title is from “The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is Out to Get Us!” By Sufjan Stevens (because most of my other titles are named after his lyrics so why not). Hope you enjoy!

_Why was this so difficult?_ Snafu flicked his lighter on and off, watching the little flame appear and disappear. He had been at this for hours without making a single ounce of progress. It was hard enough to write the perfect letter to this man that meant the world to him, and to add to that, he was completely intoxicated. 

Scattered around him were at least a dozen crumpled papers bearing different iterations of the same greeting. _Dearest Gene, Hey Sledgehammer, Eugene Sledge._ None of them felt right to him. In the end he had settled on _Dear Eugene,_ and hadn’t written anything else since. 

It was already 3 am. 

He had started at 10 pm.

Groaning, Snafu laid his head down on his arm, bleary eyes trying to stay focused on the little flame in front of him. He ran his thumb over the smooth gold of the lighter, trying to picture the face of the man who gave it to him. 

It was their last day in China before being shipped out and beginning the final journey home. Snafu and Eugene had laid side by side on the floor of their cabin. Lazy beams of sunlight rolled in through the small window, illuminating a single stripe on Eugene’s face. A beautiful work of art Snafu tried to commit to memory. 

_“What am I supposed to do without you?”_ Eugene had whispered softly. The thought of it scared Snafu, so he didn’t answer, but the other man hadn’t seemed to mind. He sat up to pull something from his sea bag, the band of light gone from his face, shining instead on the dusty floor.

_“Here, I got you this,”_ Eugene repositioned himself on his elbows, holding out a small gold lighter. Snafu took it carefully from his hand. _“Something to remember me by.”_

_“Aw hell, Gene, I—”_

_“I love—,”_ it was barely a whisper but Snafu would not hear it. Hearing it would be like saying goodbye. He surged forward and kissed him, desperation increasing while trying to put out of his mind their pending goodbye.

Perhaps that was what made writing this letter so difficult. He was treating it as an awkward first _hello_ after a final _goodbye._ It was as if he was starting a conversation with someone he hardly knew anymore. It was just Eugene, though. He could continue a never ending conversation with Eugene.

With sudden inspiration, Snafu began writing. He didn’t try to explain anything. He didn’t talk about the war or about China. Instead, he told Eugene about his week. About how the foreman at the saw mill was a _bitch_ , and how his cousin came to visit, to celebrate his acceptance into medical school. He told him about the little old lady downstairs who always needed help fixing a toilet or replacing a light bulb. He told Eugene about how he was overdue a haircut and about the pawn shop across the street from his apartment with the big neon sign. 

After he was finished, he took a swig of his half empty bottle of rum and admired his writing. It was a little messy and he wasn’t sure it completely made sense, but he was fairly confident in it. Roaming over it with his eyes, he realized he had forgotten to sign it. 

He began to write ‘ _Snafu’—_ as if that were the only way Eugene would remember him. As if Eugene Sledge only existed inside his memory of the war. No. He would simply not allow him to become another faded memory.

Snafu managed to seal the letter before passing out shortly thereafter. 

The bottom right corner read, _Yours truly, Merriell Shelton._

Standing at the mailbox outside the VA office, Merriell became unsure of whether to send the letter or not. It was already stamped and addressed. He was a bit embarrassed that he had repeatedly turned Gene’s offer down way back when. At the time, it seemed like he needed to remove any temptation of contacting him to put him out of his mind. After two years of thinking about Eugene Sledge constantly, he realized what a stupid idea that was really. 

It had been _two years._ What if Eugene didn’t even answer him? What if he had moved on? What if he didn’t even care about him anymore? These thoughts had Merriell pulling his hand back.

_“Come with me Snaf,”_ Eugene had yawned with tired eyes. 

_“You should get some rest, mon cher.”_

_“I mean it,”_ he mumbled, barely managing to stay awake. Snafu only smiled gently, knowing he couldn’t do that. 

He took two deep breaths before shoving the letter into the mailbox without giving it a second thought. It was done and he never had to think about it again. 

The following week was the most excruciating ever. He drank himself into the night, trying to forget he was waiting for a response. He checked the mail daily, but still nothing. He even offered the little old lady downstairs help to keep himself busy, but for once she didn’t have any odd-jobs for him. By the weekend he had nearly lost all hope of receiving a letter back.

He was laying on the floor of his apartment with a massive headache when he heard knocks at his door. His heart stopped. There it was again. Maybe he was crazy, but he was allowed to hope. Cautiously opening the door a crack, praying to see a certain redhead, he was incredibly disappointed to see his neighbor Marco standing right outside.

“What the fuck. I’m not in the mood to put up with this shit,” Merriell said, swinging the door fully open. His neighbor looked at him with both confusion and contempt.

“Good thing you don’t have to,” he finally sighed. “Here. This was in my mail.” From his pocket he pulled a folded envelope with his name on it. Merriell took it gingerly, searching immediately for the return address. His stomach dropped. 

“Thanks,” he barely managed to breathe out while simultaneously shutting the door.

“Jesus Christ, man.” But that didn’t matter now. He did his best to unfold the envelope and smooth out the crease. Then carefully, surgically he sliced it open.

He held the most precious piece of paper ever in his hands. Thick, elegant stationary, adorned with small neat letters, and a careful signature at the bottom left corner. _Forever yours, Eugene Sledge._

He had read over it at least fifteen times, just imagining the way the intonation of Gene’s voice would change, the glint in his eyes and how he would use his hands when talking about something that excited him. 

The very last paragraph was the only part he could not imagine. It just didn’t make sense. Small and cramped like it shouldn’t be there. Why was it there?

_I know this is on quite short notice, but I was hoping you might be able to_ _attend my wedding on the 12th next month._

That date was in two weeks, surely Eugene knew that Merriell could not possibly be able to make it.

_It would really mean a lot to me._

But Eugene _wanted_ him there. 

_I’ve invited a few other Marines as well. Don’t worry about your dress_ _blues, it’s not something I really want at my wedding anyway._

Eugene only invited him because it seemed customary since he was already inviting other Marines. 

_I hope you know that I would have sent you an invitation earlier, but I didn’t_ _have your address. You could imagine my great surprise and delight when I_ _received your letter._

Eugene was _excited_ to hear from him.

_Please let me know if you can make it, if not I understand. Know that you_ _are always welcome to visit any time. Hopefully it won’t be another two years_ _when I see you next._

Eugene wanted to see him. 

_Forever yours,_

_Eugene Sledge_

Forever yours? What was that supposed to mean? The man was getting married. How could he be _forever his?_ Merriell couldn’t allow himself to hope. Hope that after two years Eugene still loved him. Still, he longed to hear it from Eugene. He took out a sheet of paper and scribbled out a series of nine words.

_Eugene,_

_Yes. I’m coming to see you._

_Love,_

_Merriell_

Standing on Eugene’s porch was one of the most anxious experiences of his life. A servant had opened the door for him, but had not let him in. She had told him to wait outside while she got Eugene. From what Merriell glimpsed, the house was bustling with movement. And then at last the door opened and a man stepped out.

“Merriell Shelton,” a grin broke its way out onto Eugene’s face. “Well, shit. I knew you said you were coming, I just didn’t realize how soon that would be.” With that, he pulled Merriell into a fierce hug, and it felt like they had never been apart.

“Is this a bad time? I saw everyone running around inside,” Merriell asked. Eugene wrinkled his eyebrows, seemingly just remembering what was going on.

“Oh, no. We were just getting ready to pick up Carol’s parents at the train station.” 

_Oh._

“It’s no wonder you’re dressed so nice,” Merriell laughed weakly. A nice sweater over a button down and neatly pressed slacks. It was how he had always imagined him.

“Yeah, well I hope you have something better to wear for dinner tonight,” Eugene smiled, poking fun at Merriell’s jeans and faded grey sweatshirt.

“Tonight?”

“Of course. You came all this way, let me make it worth your while.”

“I think a wedding is pretty worth my while, Sledge.” Eugene’s eyes shuffled to the floor as he let out the tiniest of chuckles. A silence fell over the two and all Merriell could hear was the excited chatter coming from inside the house.

“You wanna go for a walk?” Eugene stared into Merriell’s eyes for far too long, any sign of playfulness gone. It seemed they had a lot to talk about. 

“Yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merriell struggles to get answers out of a moved-on Gene. Mama Burgie is there to talk it out and keep him from doing something foolish at Merriell’s ex-lover’s bachelor party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that sledgefu week is over, but I decided to add a few chapters to this story, the last one will probably be an epilogue of sorts. Anyway here’s the continuation that no one asked for but I enjoyed writing anyway.

They walked along a nearby creek in comfortable silence. Eugene would occasionally point out the names of different plants, telling Merriell all about how he would come out and study them often. The sun shone bright and the birds chattered. It was such a contrast to the bustling streets of New Orleans, and the artificial glow of neon signs at night. 

It took a while for them to delve into further conversation. They caught up on the last two years of each other’s lives, Eugene artfully avoiding anything before that. While Merriell knew he was avoiding talking about _their_ relationship in specific, he let it go. They talked about the wedding, rather obviously, and a faint blush grew on Eugene’s face every time he so much as mentioned Carol’s name. It brought up the question of Merriell’s own love life, which he laughed off. If it was the most important topics Eugene wanted to avoid, then the most important topics they would avoid. 

By the time they were almost back at the house, Merriell couldn’t take it anymore. Eugene could act like he had moved on all he wanted, but Merriell couldn’t. He grabbed Eugene by the hand, causing him to whirl around in surprise. 

“Gene, you wrote ‘forever yours’ on your letter,” Merriell noticed genuine discomfort on Eugene’s face as his eyes darted to the floor.

“I know what I wrote.” Merriell hesitated, hoping that the younger man would elaborate, but of course he did not.

“Do you still love me?” For a millisecond he could see longing and apology running through Gene’s eyes right before his gaze turned defensive. 

“You left me on that goddamn train, Snafu!” Hurt flashes through his eyes briefly and Merriell wonders if Eugene knows his eyes are betraying him. He wants to explain himself, he wants to apologize a million times, but he won’t let Gene change the topic so easily. 

“Well shit, Gene! Shit,” he wants to be delicate about the subject, but the way Eugene is glaring at him makes him snappy. “Look, I’m sorry! I don’t know what you want me to do, it already happened! It was the worst decision of my life and I’ve been regretting it every day for the past two years!” Eugene looks up at him, gaze softening, even though his brows remain set in a hard frown. “I’m sorry. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You can’t expect me to drop everything here to run off with you,” Eugene bites quietly, but effectively. Of course he didn’t expect for him to do that. He knew better, but the contempt laced in Eugene’s tone was what hurt him more. As if proving his insecurity correct, the one that initially pushed him to leave the love of his life on a train, never to see him again.

"You know that’s not the question I asked." This time it's Gene’s turn to be flustered. He struggles to say something, anything, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. The flush returns to his face as he turns his gaze away, and it's as much a confession as Merriell needs. He only wishes Gene would say it out loud.

"Shit. It’s 3:30. We gotta get to the train station."

"So that's it? You're just gonna avoid the question."

"Of course not."

"Then?" 

"There are more pressing matters right now," Eugene cuts eyes at him, pressing forward. The look on Merriell’s face must betray his hurt because Eugene is quick to add, “Look. I’m sorry. We’ll talk more when I get back. You do have a place to stay, right?"

"Yeah." It was a lie but Merriell was too prideful to let Eugene fuss over seeing him a room at his home, next to his soon-to-be wife's _parents._

“Okay." Eugene nods vigorously, head filling with a million other concerns. “Okay. Will I be seeing you at dinner?"

"You bet I’ll be there.”

It was the most awkward dinner in the history of the planet. Merriell was sulking, avoiding looking to Eugene’s right where his fiancé was seated. She was beautiful. Soft blonde curls, sea green eyes, a petite frame. The kind of girl that Merriell might have tried to chase after when he was younger, long before his heart was stolen by a certain redhead southern belle on a hellish island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. 

The conversation was light and friendly, sensible chuckles that made Merriell feel even more of an outsider. He often saw Eugene stealing pointed glances at him, forgetting to laugh tastefully at his brother’s quips. Merriell only stared back, challenging Eugene to call him out on his _abhorrent_ behavior. Instead, Carol spoke up.

“So Merriell, Eugene tells me you two were really close friends in the marines,” she smiled sweetly, politely. It almost made Merriell roll his eyes, but if he did, he would lose eye contact with Gene.

“I’m not sure you could call what we were friends,” Merriell tried hard not to smirk at the concerned glare Eugene shot at him. The entire table listened intently. “When you spend every part of two years fighting through shit, mud and hell, you become a lot closer than friends. Brothers, maybe. Maybe even closer. 

“Gene’s saved my life more times than I can count and I am forever indebted to him,” Merriell gave him a nod, raising his glass. The rest of the table followed suit, chattering their praise. Eugene looked surprised and Merriell broke his gaze away from him. 

Merriell avoided conversation for the rest of the night, but he did start to force small laughs out of himself, for Gene’s sake. He listened to Carol’s mother tear up about how she was beyond happy that her daughter was marrying such a wonderful, upright man. He listened to Eugene’s father tell stories of Eugene’s upbringing and to his mother thank everyone for joining them for dinner. Taking it as his cue to leave, Eugene walked him to the door. 

“Hey, thanks for not saying anything incriminating at dinner,” Gene chuckled sheepishly. It makes Merriell want to kiss him, squeeze him, show his family real _incriminating_ evidence. They were so close, he might as well. 

“Gene, you have to answer me now.” He doesn’t respond immediately, shrinking back into himself. Only the sound of crickets and their bated breathing fills the air. 

“I don’t know. I… Snaf. I’m getting married,” he whispers, clearly fighting himself.

“Goodnight Gene.”

Snafu spent the night in his truck, parked on a side road near Eugene’s home. He is just barely waking up when he sees the blurry figure of a man stepping out from the car behind him. The man approaches his window and all of the alarms in Merriell’s half awake brain go off. 

“Snafu? No way.” Merriell recognizes that voice and he jolts in his seat. “I thought it was you!” Opening the window, Merriell manages to give R.V. Burgin a tired smile.

“Hey Burgie.”

“What the hell are you doing sleeping in your truck?”

“I didn’t want to get a motel,” he yawns. He doesn’t have the money to spend on a room for the next few days. 

“Gene didn’t offer you a place to stay?” Merriell’s face crumples, remembering how his visit yesterday had gone awry, how Eugene had repeatedly turned him away. It was his own fault for letting him slip away in the first place. He heard clicking as Burgie reached into the window to open the driver’s door from the inside. Merriell openly accepted the other man’s embrace, feeling like a small teary child. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You can stay with me an’ Flo,” Burgie soothed, protective as always. He knew about his and Gene’s relationship and had always been the one to cover for them and tell them to tone it down when they were being too conspicuous. 

“Romus?” Merriell looked up from Burgie’s shoulder to see a woman in a white dress with blue trim standing behind them. She had an air of authority that made Merriell feel ashamed for sobbing in her husband’s arms.

“Hey, Flo, this is Snafu. Snafu, this is Florence.” Merriell cried a weak greeting from inside the vehicle. 

They moved into Burgie’s car where they could all fit comfortably. He filled them in on the situation, opening up in a way that surprised his own self. Flo wiped the tears from Merriell’s face with a handkerchief, gentle like a mother would. By the time he finished, she was invested in his story, and next to her, Burgie wore a look of sincere apology upon his face. 

“Just give him some time, Snaf. He’s probably overwhelmed right now. With your arrival, his whole world is turned upside down. I think that’s a good sign,” he comforts. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

Merriell sure hoped so. 

The next time Merriell saw Eugene was at his bachelor party. He had told Burgie to bring him along, and Merriell knew both of them were dreading it. The thought of some girl draping herself all over Eugene’s lap as their drunken friends looked on made Merriell feel queasy. 

Thankfully, Sidney Phillips was Eugene’s best man and had planned a relatively tame night for them, most likely at Eugene’s request. Wine and chatter in a VIP lounge, a classy night, the only women being the friendly waitresses milling in and out of the room. Merriell could practically feel the uncomfortable waves rolling off of Sid at his presence. He couldn’t blame him. The only reason Merriell was there was because Burgie had brought him so he could face his problems, namely Eugene. The blond stood up on a side table to make a toast.

“Let us raise a glass to my friend, Eugene Sledge,” he began, emphasizing the first syllable of his name. “He finally landed a nice girl, something I’m sure we all thought he could never do.” Tipsy laughter rang through the small room, Merriell finding himself chuckling as well, although for other reasons. “Tomorrow they will both arrive at the altar pure as the Virgin Mary herself.”

Merriell chortled into his wine glass, remembering all the times Eugene fucked him, or took him in his mouth, or all the other ways Merriell elicited beautiful noises from his lips. He was anything but pure. It seemed Eugene remembered those memories too, judging from his bright red ears as he subconsciously stared at Merriell. Luckily, no one seemed to notice as Sid continued with his speech. 

As the night went on, their speech got more slurred and their laughter more obnoxious. It was getting increasingly hard to ignore the loaded looks Eugene was sending him, and Merriell couldn’t stop himself from staring back with equal fervor. He had moved over to the door where he could feel the fresh air hitting his back. He could feel Burgie glancing at them every so often from the other side of the room, but all he could focus on was the flush on Eugene’s face and the intensity in his eyes. Maybe he was hallucinating, but Gene set his glass down and made his way towards him. 

“Yes, the answer is yes,” the younger man whispered in his ear, making his heart skip a beat. “I love you Snaf, always have,” Eugene growled, then in complete juxtaposition, he giggled. The sound was loud enough to make Merriell worry that someone could hear their conversation. Gene hiccuped, his smile disappearing quickly.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’m getting married. Tomorrow,” he hiccuped again. His voice dropped to a low whisper, “Please.” A hiccup. “Stay with me tonight.”

Eugene is so close to him and Merriell feels heat rush to his face as he becomes aware of the stares they’re starting to get. Sid, wide-eyed and suspicious, Burgie, with stern eyes from where he’s chatting with some former members of K Company. He seems to be pleading silently, _Please be careful._ It’s that look that pushes Merriell to make his next move.

“Gene, you’re drunk,” Merriell pushes Gene’s hand away from where it had been resting on his chest. He looks genuinely scared, regret immediately running through his mind. “You should go easy on the drinks. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Eugene backs away, horrified at what he had just said. He nods, slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he dashes into the restroom. Merriell is half tempted to go after him, but is stopped by Burgie’s gentle hand on his arm and Merriell takes the drink he has in his other hand. He downs it and moves to join his fellow ex-marines in laughable conversation. He drinks recklessly the rest of the night. Anything to forget the confession he had been waiting for since he first received that godforsaken letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d love to hear your thoughts :)


End file.
